


The Shape of Things to Come

by Nikita



Series: Shape Series [1]
Category: The X-Files
Genre: Alien Abduction (canon), Canon suffering, M/M, Major Illness, No Character Death, Pain, Season 7 'fix it', Torture, dying, h/c
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-12
Updated: 2013-08-12
Packaged: 2017-12-23 05:32:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/922585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nikita/pseuds/Nikita
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The pain begins for Mulder, but he has no clue just how bad things will get.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Watching 'The Gift' I realized Mulder's pain got worse and worse, but no one noticed - definitely missing some story there. I’ve glossed over most of the events that happened in season 7 and ignored certain episodes like Je Souhaite and Brand X as they would profoundly change the story I want to tell (and the bizarre additions to canon that CC made in season 8) so just assume those didn’t happen in this universe. Hey, if CC can add events that just plainly couldn’t happen to further his out of control conspiracy arc, I can ignore whatever I want for the sake of fanfic… ;)
> 
>  
> 
> Written back in 2006.

XXX

 

Mulder tapped his pen against the styrofoam coffee cup as a voice droned on in the background. Scully glared at him from across the table, but he knew she was just as bored as he was. A foot knocked against his under the table and Mulder glanced up from his pen to see Skinner glaring at him. He stopped tapping, but he shifted his focus to nudging Skinner's foot in the attempt to get the other man to play footsie. He watched Walter out of the corner of his eye and was rewarded with a twitch of the lips that might have turned into a smile if they weren't at a table full of agents. Instead, it turned into a frown and the foot that had been near him was suddenly withdrawn as the A.D. straightened in his chair. 

Mulder suppressed a sigh and the urge to tap his pen against the cup again. The voice was still droning on without a change in subject - budget meetings were the fifth ring of hell and Mulder was sure he hadn't done anything so bad as to be trapped there. If Walter hadn't personally reminded him last night of this very meeting he'd be on a case in the middle of Wisconsin or in a dentist chair having his teeth randomly drilled right now. Anything, but the budget meeting. 

The urge to tap his cup was becoming stronger again, but a sudden flare of pain stopped him this time. Wincing, he dropped his pen and rubbed at the temples. The voice didn't stop, but he could feel some of the other agents turning to stare at him. Mulder wasn't surprised - any kind of activity would be entertainment just now - but he couldn't summon the strength to care that he was the new spotlight at the moment, his head was splitting open. 

"Agent...are you all right?" Walter's voice was soft, but professionally distant and proper. Mulder moved to nod his head, but the slightest movement made him gasp. The agent on the other side of him was putting a hand on his shoulder while Scully got up to walk over to his side. The voice seemed to finally realize no one was listening and faltered in mid sentence. 

"Mulder?"

"Is he okay?"

"I think he should step out, sir"

"Kim, call an ambulance -"

Mulder found enough strength to speak up at that, "No - no, I'm fine. Just a headache..." he squinted up at Skinner's concerned face and then promptly shut his eyes. The light peeking from behind the blinds was enough to send new spikes of pain through his brain. There was a moment of argument amongst a few of them, but Scully finally won and led him out of the office and down to the basement. He was relieved to get out of the room and away from the noise of other people, but just as they reached the silence of his office, Scully was dragging him back out of it.

"What are you doing?" he grumbled - not whined. 

Scully handed him his coat and put her own on before leading him by the arm again. "I'm taking you home. I think it’s just a migraine, but I'll stay with you to make sure it doesn't get worse. You wore yourself out on this last case, Mulder. I told you to take some time off."

Mulder had just spent the last week working 20-hour days on an important serial killer case that VCU had asked his help for. Scully had worked nearly as hard at his side, but Mulder was the one that had to get into the killer's head and he hadn't slept even when he'd gone home for a few hours rest. He hadn't thought it was too much at the time - he'd done that sort of thing all the time before he'd had the X-Files, but maybe she'd been right. Maybe he'd gotten too damn old for that kind of work - his head felt like it was going to explode at the slightest touch. He couldn't argue with her so he let her drive him home and tuck him into bed.

The pain wouldn't let him rest at first, but eventually sleep came over him like an oppressive fog that wouldn't lift. He slept heavily and exhaustedly for what felt like days. Scully was reluctant to leave him, but he managed to mumble to her sometime around midnight that he was just going to sleep and she should get home. Mulder promised to call her as soon as he woke up the next day and sighed with relief to hear the door shut behind her before falling back into an unnaturally deep sleep.

He was startled some time later by a hand on his forehead. He'd told Scully to go home and he was annoyed she'd tricked him until he opened his eyes and squinted at the blurry sight of a bald head and glasses.

"Walter?" he croaked, voice gone dry and rusty. 

"Sorry - I didn't mean to wake you. I just wanted to make sure you didn't have a fever." Skinner leaned over to his bedside where Scully had left a bottle of water and offered it to him.

Mulder drank thirstily and then leaned back into the pillows. The pain wasn't gone, but it was dulled and bearable. He sighed gratefully at both the company and the lower level of pain. "Scully said it was just a migraine from overworking...those budget meetings would give anyone a splitting headache."

Skinner rolled his eyes and stood up to take off his trench coat. "Those meetings are a necessary evil for our work, Mulder - besides you barely ever attend them. You can stand to show up once a year and pretend to give a shit." He dropped the coat on a chair overflowing with folders and newspapers and loosened his tie. 

Mulder grinned at the familiar sight and shifted over in the bed to make room. They didn't often get to spend the night together, but apparently he was being indulged tonight. Too bad he still wasn't up to anything more than cuddling. 

Tomorrow was a Saturday and he was sure he could convince the man to take the day off for once and stay in bed with him. It was a pleasant night for Mulder as he listened to Skinner breathe deeply next to him in bed - the pain was nearly gone and he could almost pretend it hadn't happened. 

Unfortunately, he couldn't pretend for long.

XXX


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The pain gets worse - and harder to hide.

XXX

Mulder groaned and tried to ignore the nausea that crept up along with the pain in his head. It was becoming a very tiring trend to his mornings. The headaches he'd first experienced a few months ago were nothing like the ones he had now. 

It wasn't that they hurt more - that wasn't possible as it was the worst pain he'd ever experienced in his head - it was that they started gradual and built to last, rarely giving him a moment's peace. It was getting harder and harder to hide the constant ache that was his head now and yet it was more important than ever. Skinner was spending more and more time at his apartment or inviting Mulder to his. Their relationship had deepened into something more than the occasional night over - Walter was making noises about commitment, and even scarier...house hunting.

Commitment to a relationship rather than a quest was a new idea to Mulder and a daunting one, but he couldn't deny it was something he needed. He had come to the annoying, but inevitable conclusion that he needed Skinner like the air he breathed. One day without seeing the man and he felt an ache in his chest that nearly rivaled the one in his head. It was something he’d never quite believed would happen to him. He was in love.

"Did you say something?" Skinner popped his head out of the bathroom and looked questioningly at him, his face was half shaven and the shaving cream on the other half looked oddly cute on the normally gruff face. Mulder shoved the pain away and focused on normalcy.

"No - just groaning as I stretched. I'm getting old," he quipped. Mulder stood up from the bed and stifled the urge to shut his eyes at the jolt of pain and wavering balance. Luckily, Skinner had already turned back to his shaving.

"No cracks about which one of us is getting old, Mulder," he said over the running faucet, "when you've got more gray than brown on that head of yours, then we'll talk." 

Mulder regained his balance and rifled his closet for a suit. He knew that age was a touchy subject with his older lover, but to Mulder the point was moot as Skinner was obviously healthier and fitter than he was. Why on earth would the man care about a few gray hairs? Or rather a few less. 

He supposed it had to do with Skinner's parents both dying fairly young. His mother had died of breast cancer when he was a child and his father of a heart attack at 52. It must be why Skinner kept himself in such good shape - he definitely didn't look like a middle-aged desk jockey.

Mulder tossed his dark gray suit on the bed and padded up behind the other man at the mirror. He rested his chin on one large shoulder, disrupting the steady movements of the razor. "I thought we'd get matching walkers, though - I have my eye on one with racing stripes and a bag to put your groceries in. It even has a seat for when you're tired. I'll order it for your next birthday?"

Walter reached over and smeared some shaving cream on his nose. "Sure - don't forget the compartment for my spare teeth, too."

XXX

Scully was off doing an autopsy on a case they were working on when the next big headache hit him. It actually brought him to his knees as he clutched his head and ground his teeth. He was alone, luckily, and didn't cause the scene he had in the budget meeting. The bad side was that no one was there to drive him home and tuck him in bed. 

Part of him thought of trying to call Skinner on his cell phone, but he dismissed the idea as soon as it occurred to him. This wasn't something he wanted to burden the other man with, but perhaps it was time he told a doctor. Maybe it was something that could be fixed and he wouldn't have to reveal the pain he'd been trying to hide from Skinner and Scully the past few months. 

The doctor he went to sent him to a specialist who ran tests and ordered more tests and sent him to another specialist who needed his own set of test results. The only thing they could agree upon was that something was wrong and they had no clue as to what. One of them was convinced it must be a tumor even though they couldn't find it. Another was convinced it was just migraines, though some of his symptoms didn't match and he had no family history of it. 

The one event that stood out to the doctors and Mulder was the unusual brain activity he'd had just a month before the first headache. The new headaches didn't seem the same as that incident - he hadn't heard the voices or 'seen' into anyone's mind since whatever it was CGB Spender and his butchers had done to him, but he had to admit that it was too much of a coincidence.

Throughout the tests and appointments, Mulder found himself becoming rather good at lying to the people who cared about him the most. He knew he ought to tell them, but every time he started to he saw their faces turning to worry and fear and the words dried up on his tongue. He was already spending just about every weekend, lunch break and bank holiday in the doctors' waiting rooms - he didn't want all of his personal time tied up with his illness, too. His verbal sparring with Scully at work and evenings with Skinner were the only bright points of his life lately and he wouldn't give them up. Not yet.

XXX

Saturday  
3:45 p.m.

Walter let himself into Mulder's apartment with a small smile on his lips. Mulder had said he had to meet with a lawyer over his mother's estate that day and would call him in the evening, but Walter had decided to surprise his lover with a home cooked meal. He juggled two bags of groceries as he tried to sweep some of the junk on the counter out of the way to set them down. Mulder used every available flat surface in his home to store newspaper clippings, books and file folders. He opened the fridge and confirmed the fact that it was completely empty except for a jar of mustard, which upon closer inspection looked empty as well. Good thing he'd brought everything necessary for a spaghetti dinner. 

He set the water to boil and began chopping up onions and green pepper. A stack of papers on the edge of the counter caught his eye and he picked them up before they could fall. He was always careful to respect Mulder's privacy and avoided looking at them, setting them down on a safer spot on the counter before going back to his cooking.

Mulder arrived two hours later, surprised to see him sitting at the small kitchen table. "Uh - hi. Something smells good." Skinner was sitting at the small kitchen table with garlic bread and a candle. 

"I wanted to surprise you - hungry?" he stood up and went to reheat the sauce, out of the corner of his eye he noticed Mulder notice the papers moved on the counter. Walter studiously forked spaghetti onto the plates and Mulder took off his jacket and draped it on the counter - just happening to cover the papers. 

The food was good, but the sex was better. Mulder seemed a bit distracted at first, his touch hesitant and distant. He was about to ask if he felt all right, but all of a sudden, like an invisible switch being thrown, Mulder threw himself into the act, touching and tasting Skinner's body like it was the first time. Walter was surprised at the intensity, but responded with the same. 

Perhaps he should cook for Mulder more often, the reward was well worth it.

 

XXX

 

Mulder had been sitting in his car for a while now. Exactly how long he wasn't sure. He'd had an appointment at 9:45 that morning, but it was long past when he had told Scully he would be back at the office. If he didn't get moving soon... But he couldn't seem to make himself turn the key in the ignition. 

He was dying. 

The doctors had no idea just what exactly was wrong with him, but they did know that he was getting worse. The pain was a constant companion now - he found it hard to get out of bed some mornings. He'd tried some of the painkillers the doctors prescribed, but they just made him feel drugged and slow. Something he couldn't afford to be on the job and certainly not in front of Scully. 

Scully. What was he going to tell her? She'd be furious that he hadn't told her sooner, but then she'd done a good job hiding her own pain during her cancer. He remembered the pale skin and pinched look, the lines from pain and sadness. And he remembered his own anger and fear at watching her slip away. It had been torture to watch her die like that. Could he put her through the same? She’d finally gotten her life back together. Just the other day she’d told him about the possibility of conceiving a child. She actually asked him to help her conceive. Could he tell her he was dying just as she had a chance at happiness?

And Skinner…Mulder had seen how hard the other man had taken his ex-wife’s death. The start of a new relationship like theirs was no time to be caring for a dying partner. No way he wanted what little time they had together to be spent grieving.

Mulder turned the key and started the car with renewed purpose. He’d keep it secret and he’d fight the illness for as long as he could. Alone.

 

XXX


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mulder makes some decisions and some decisions are made for him.

The look on Scully’s face when he agreed to help her conceive proved just how right he was to keep his illness to himself. Her smile threatened to engulf her face as she grabbed him and hugged him with all her strength. He only realized she was crying when he felt the wetness soak through his dress shirt. 

That evening he leaned back in the couch and watched old black and white movies with the sound off as Walter worked diligently at a stack of paperwork at his side. It was peaceful and quiet except for the occasional scratching of a pen and he imagined he could still feel the dampness from Scully’s happy tears on his shirt. He focused on the phantom sensation rather than the throbbing of his head.

He never mentioned the decision he’d made with Scully. Just as she had no clue he was going home to Walter each night.

He was really rather good at lying by now. His parents had taught him well.

XXX

The last round of tests for Scully’s doctor went smoothly enough and they made appointments for the first attempt to conceive the next week. Scully continued to do her job as professionally as usual, but there was a faint smile upon her lips that betrayed her inner bubble of excitement. Walter mentioned it one night and Mulder made an off hand comment about a cute blond intern that had started working on the fifth floor. Which in turn led to teasing about Mulder noticing the blond intern and a mock fight over said intern until Walter set aside his current stack of paperwork and half dragged Mulder to the bedroom.

It was the first time his illness affected his performance in bed. Mulder tried his best, but the pain was too great and he sucked Walter off in the attempt to hide it. When his lover reached down to reciprocate, he distracted him with a kiss. Luckily he’d tired the older man out and Walter fell asleep without further comment. 

Mulder watched him wistfully and clenched his fists until the nails bit into his palms. The pain in his head throbbed on.

XXX

Perhaps he should have been grateful that the pain, bad as it was, didn’t interfere too badly with his work. He seemed to fool everyone around him with the usual level of wit and sarcasm on the job – enough so that Skinner glared and lectured him as often (also as usual) at the office. But perhaps the real reason he got away with it was that Scully was rather distracted with her own doctors’ appointments and testing. Nothing sucked up one’s concentration like a personal medical condition.

Yet while no one seemed to notice his illness during the workday, he was finding it increasingly hard to hide it in his personal life. He found himself making more and more trips during the weekends for ‘personal errands’ like visiting his mother’s grave and closing up old family business. Walter had tried a few times to volunteer his presence and help with these errands, but finally gave up when Mulder insisted it was something he needed to handle alone. 

The real reasons for his trips were usually doctors’ appointments or working on his own will with the family lawyer. He left all of his money and assets to Scully and any children she should have in the future and a few more personal items to Walter to be given to him in private. He also ordered the addition of his name to the family tombstone in Raleigh – he remembered Maggie Scully ordering the tombstone for her daughter and hoped to spare Scully and Skinner the pain of doing it themselves. He felt oddly relieved each time he wrapped up a detail or made a plan to ease the burden for them after his death. 

 

During this time he found himself becoming more emotionally detached from his relationships with both Scully and Skinner. It was a natural process, the inner psychologist in him noted, for someone to prepare for their death by becoming emotionally distant and distracted, but it was rather confusing to the people who cared for him since they had no clue why he was acting that way. 

Walter attempted at first to bridge the gap by being more persistent in affectionate gestures and time alone together, but this only made Mulder pull back even more out of fear of exposing his burgeoning failure to perform in bed. 

It was a difficult time for their relationship as the sex slowly dried up between them and the communication between them became stiff and formal - both afraid to say something that would result in a finalizing argument that would end the relationship all together.

Walter knew they were heading towards the same dead end and failure that he’d gone through with Sharon but was at a loss as to how to stop it. He threw himself into his work and hoped that he and Mulder would ride out the rough patch somehow together. Mulder just sighed in relief as his lover backed off. It would be easier for Walter to move on later, anyway. 

XXX

 

The first implantation of egg and sperm seemed to go smoothly and Scully glowed with happiness as she typed up reports and sipped decaf coffee and tea. Mulder only felt numb detachment at the event – as if he was watching an event occurring to people on a television screen, but he nodded and smiled and brought her a gigantic muffin from the cafeteria every morning. 

She took a few days off to spend with her family and Mulder was relieved to have the office to himself. He turned the overhead lights off and cleared out a few old files he’d been meaning to go through. One report roused his interest – a local legend about a monster that could eat disease and sickness and leave a healthy body behind it with not trace of illness left. Mulder read and reread the file, cross checking it with any other reports he could find similar to it and then made a decision.

 

The creature, former human - shayman, whatever it was, was a pitiful sight to see. The gruesome tumors, injuries and distorted features were difficult to look at. At one point Mulder lay down on the floor in a desperate attempt to try the healing, but the creature’s pain was too great for him to go through with it. In the creature’s eyes he saw his own pain reflected. The helplessness and despair he hadn’t thought he really felt anymore – it was all right there in front of him, the numbness that had wrapped itself around him an illusion. Mulder couldn’t add to it – he couldn’t force the creature to take on another pain – so he reluctantly pulled out his gun and did what he thought was the only humane course left to him. Seeing the creature still and at peace, Mulder knew he had done the right thing. He also knew that one day his own pain would end – either the illness would kill him or he’d use the same gun to end if for himself. It was a euphoric realization that gave him the strength to leave that small town and head home. He hid the gun under his sink – safe from prying eyes and ready for when he might need it.

Mulder then drove over to Skinner’s apartment and kissed his lover like he hadn’t in months. He needed to make every last minute count. The inner psychologist made a note that he’d reached the final stage in dying – acceptance. 

 

XXX

 

Scully’s attempt failed and the grief was evident in every movement and facial expression for the weeks following it. Mulder grieved with her in his own way, but was also secretly relieved. It was likely a mistake to try in the first place. If anyone could say a family was cursed, the Mulder family certainly was – why bring another into this world to add to Scully’s loss and burden? It would be better if she chose another donor. Anyone. Perhaps Skinner would be willing. Mulder played out a small fantasy in his head where his lover and best friend made a family of small near-sighted red headed children. It sparked a bit of jealousy in him, but also a sense of rightness in the idea of them both being happy after he was gone. 

Mulder knew better than to play matchmaker, though, and contented himself with being relieved she postponed their next attempt indefinitely. With any luck he’d be beyond such things before she had the idea to try again. 

 

XXX

 

Summer – 2000

 

An auditor frowned at Mulder over his list of figures for the department’s expense account. Surely this work could be done over the Internet these days, he sneered. Mulder ground his teeth and watched as another petty bureaucrat dismissed his life’s work and ambition. Soon he’d be dead and they could chuck the entire contents of his office into the bin and be done with him. Deciding that the dying had little to lose and much to gain from giving into their impulses – he reduced the auditor’s vision just a bit and skulked back to his office. Skinner would be reaming him a new one later, but it was soooo worth it.

He was just about ready to type up his resignation to file immediately after the X-Files was officially closed when the phone rang.

“More alien abductions, Scully.” 

Scully got the gleam in her eye that had been missing the past few weeks, “I don't know how we could possibly justify the expense.”

Mulder could feel that old excitement brewing up again despite himself, “We'd probably turn up nothing.” 

For the first time in a long time, Scully was on the same page as him, “Let's go waste some money.” 

They booked tickets to Oregon and reminisced about their very first case together over salty peanuts and flat sodas. 

Mulder was looking forward to what this case would bring them – it was like one last blast before the party was over. He smiled to himself and looked out the tiny airplane window at the dense forests of Oregon slowly approaching.

END

(Continued in next story 'Abduction.')

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a three story planned arc. Two out of three are already written and I hope to write the third part after posting these two. I hate leaving works unfinished. Please let me know if you like the story and are interested in more. In many ways this is a rather dead fandom, but if anyone out there is still willing to read it I'd love to try to write it again. ;)


End file.
